


Scott McCall’s Pack for Werewolves Who Wanna Werewolf and Deal Drugs Good Too

by badwolfbadwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Mason find Scott's bag of cash underneath his bed.  Clearly this means Scott is a drug dealer.  And, after thinking about it, Scott's actually pretty shady.  And Stiles is always talking about his unnatural love for his aluminum bat which is probably just a metaphor for beating the heck out of someone.  </p><p>And <i>crap</i>, no, he can’t get out.  He’s Scott’s beta, and if that’s the type of stuff Scott’s pack is into, he’s into it, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott McCall’s Pack for Werewolves Who Wanna Werewolf and Deal Drugs Good Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sharman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharman/gifts).



> Yay, happy festival to dylangayberry!
> 
> Thanks to [eeyore9990](http://eeyore9990.tumblr.com) for being my reader/muse!!!

“There’s something I—” Liam swallows heavily, pushing his spoon through his pudding cup. Mason’s staring at him intently and Liam resolutely avoids his eyes, his face burning up. It had seemed like such a good idea, but now that he’s here, he can’t quite get the words out. How do you tell your best friend you’re a fricking _werewolf_?

“Go on,” Mason says, and Liam feels his heart-rate ratcheting up. Thank god juniors don’t have the same lunch as freshman or Scott would be over here in a split second with his ‘concerned’ face on, making this all ten million times worse.

“Scott…” Liam begins awkwardly.

“Oh my god. Do you have a crush on him? It’s totally okay, dude. I mean. Obviously. Obviously I’d be okay with that.”

Liam shakes his head vehemently. “No. No, _no_!” He pokes at his pudding cup before pushing it forward in front of him and hunkering down over the table, like he has some kind of dreadful secret. Well, really. He does. “No, but yeah, it’s about Scott. Scott like… he has this group of people.”

Mason’s frowning at him now, clearly having no idea what Liam’s about to tell him. Liam’s tongue feels weird, his throat sticking with nerves.

“Yeah, I know he has a group. Scott’s kind of like… popular.” Mason sounds slightly bitter, and Liam regrets all the recent times he’s told Mason no, just so he could hang out with Scott some more.

“Right, and you know that party with like, Lydia Martin, and stuff?”

Mason nods, back to eating his sandwich again, clearly not getting the magnitude of this conversation.

“I might be, like. Getting invited to other parties and stuff.”

Mason arches an eyebrow, and Liam can see him fighting to be happy for him. It’s a bit painful. “Good for you, man.”

“No, like. Just with Scott. And some of his friends. I mean. Scott’s like, mentoring me?” Liam fiddles with the lid of the pudding cup before looking back into Mason’s dark eyes.

“Mentoring you in what? How to be popular?” And yeah, that’s a definite tinge of jealousy in Mason’s voice.

“No, like. There’s some stuff. That he’s… helping me with. Finding an outlet for my anger and stuff.” Mason would understand that, certainly. He’s helped him through enough punching matches with trees to know that he needs a little… help in that area.

“Scott McCall runs a secret fight club?” Mason laughs slightly and takes a sip of his soda, blowing bubbles as he slurps out the last of it.

“No, shut up, Mason. I’m being serious here.”

“He has a ring of prostitutes and is trying to solicit your involvement? Is Scott your pimp?”

“No!”

Mason eats his sandwich thoughtfully again, and Liam feels like this is definitely _not_ going the way he’d planned out in his head.

“No, I’m sort of… in his gang now. It’s like a… like a pack.”

Mason looks clearly disturbed now. “You’re in a gang? Dude, we’re fifteen and live in Beacon Hills. This is like suburbia times infinity. How are you in a _gang_?”

“It’s like, a nice gang? Where people help each other out?”

“I can talk to the counselor,” Mason says, voice completely serious as he sits up straighter in his chair. “Maybe they have some pamphlets. Maybe your dad can help you. Liam, it’s not too late to get out of this.”

“Oh my _god_ , Mason. I already told you. It’s not like that.”

Mason frowns heavily, balling up his paper bag lunch and grabbing Liam’s three milk cartons to throw in the nearby trash can.

“Promise me you won’t say anything to my dad,” Liam says, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

Mason thinks for a moment but finally nods, and Liam feels relief wash over him. He didn’t exactly tell Mason about the wolves part, but he did say the pack thing. And hopefully he understands now how Scott is important. Not like, more important than Mason is, but definitely important. And maybe Mason will stop harassing him when he keeps accidentally ditching him on full moons and pack bonding nights and such. 

They walk to fifth period silently, and when Scott nods at him from across the hall Liam flushes, not missing the way Mason gives Scott a death glare before silently clomping into the classroom without even waiting for Liam to catch up.

***

When Mason had texted him that they needed to get together _pronto_ —what a dork—Liam didn’t think much of it. They have a standing Friday night date with two Mountain Dews and Call of Duty, so he is just rummaging through the bottom of the fridge when Mason bursts through the door looking harried and slightly afraid.

“Dude, have you heard of knocking?”

“Shut up, Liam. We are so past that.”

Liam slides the can across the counter, popping his open with a loud hiss and going back to searching through the freezer for some pizza rolls or something. With his step-dad working a lot of hours at the hospital and his mom traveling for work, Liam often has to fend for himself, and he’s an expert microwaver, thank you.

“How much do you know about Scott’s… stuff?” Mason’s turned cautious now, and the careful tone makes Liam pop his head back out from the door and look at him curiously. He feels a bit of a sinking feeling in his gut, but really, he was trying to tell Mason all of this anyways. Maybe it’s better it’s all out in the open.

“I don’t know,” Liam says, choosing his words carefully. “I know there’s some things going on.”

Mason gives him a leveling look and slugs back the whole can of Mountain Dew, like he’s trying to work up some courage in a hilariously non-alcoholic way. Not like Mason has ever had a drink in his life.

“I found something. Something not good.”

“Look, Mason,” Liam says as he sits down at the table and rubs a hand over his face.

“I think you’re in over your head.”

“No, Scott’s a good guy. Like I said, he’s helping me.”

“You don’t need that kind of help!” Mason exclaims, standing up from the table violently, and it’s so unlike him that Liam just blinks at him in half-shock, half-surprise.

“I don’t think you really know what you’re talking about,” Liam says, and he feels a bit of anger swelling up. Because no one, not even Mason, says things about Liam’s Alpha.

“There was cash in his locker, Liam. Like, five hundred _thousand_ dollars or something! That’s thousands. With a ‘th.’"

“Wait, what? And what the hell were you doing snooping in Scott's locker anyways?” Liam feels all the anger rush out of him like air from a balloon, confused at the turn the conversation has taken. He creases his brow, trying to understand and coming up with nothing.

Mason looks embarrassed but barrels on. “I may have done some, uh, research. Only because I was concerned for you! But his locker was unlocked, or well, the combination was super easy, and what do you want from me? I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, dude. Is Scott like a frickin’ drug dealer? Are you part of his drug dealing gang or pack or whatever?”

“What? Scott is _not_ a drug dealer!” But even as Liam shouts the words, he realizes he really wouldn’t have a clue if he was. He only sees Scott every once in a while, and it isn’t like he shares anything more about his life than necessary because Liam doesn’t _want_ him to. But Scott certainly doesn’t seem like the type. Scott McCall, true alpha, general nice guy. Cute, with a slightly crooked jawline. He couldn’t be, could he? No. But then what was with the money? And Scott was pretty cryptic sometimes. And Stiles had that _bat_. Oh god, what if Stiles was the enforcer? What if Liam was being groomed to be some kind of goon, going to shake down people while Scott's image stayed squeaky clean?

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Mason swears, and they’re staring at each other across the kitchen table like there are enemy lines or something.

“No.” Then more firmly, Liam says, “No. He’s not a drug dealer. There’s… there’s gotta be another explanation.”

“That just sounds like a lot of rationalization from the indoctrinated.” Mason crosses his arms, looking extremely unconvinced.

“Dude, don’t be rude.” The anger’s still simmering a little, just beneath the surface, the need to _defend_ his Alpha clawing with the need to be logical and protect his own ass from who knows what.

“I’m just looking out for you.”

Liam sighs, because _yeah_ , that’s true, and Mason always looks out for him. Mason is too good to him, really. Liam deflates even further and drops his eyes to the table, running his hand over the crack he put in there just last week after slamming down his travel mug too hard. “Fuck. Fuck, dude. I’ll… I’ll try and pay attention. Like, I don’t think he is. But… maybe?”

“Don’t get yourself hurt. Can you like, get out before it’s too late?”

He didn’t think he could feel any lower, but the words sink like a stone in Liam’s gut. Because _crap_ , no, he can’t get out. He’s Scott’s beta, and if that’s the type of stuff Scott’s pack is into, he’s into it, too.

“I hope you’re wrong. But I’ll try and find out.”

The microwave beeps and Liam jumps up to get the pizza rolls out. He pops one in his mouth and it burns like molten lava because he never can wait the five minutes because he’s hungry and stupid. He hisses and spits it out onto his napkin, swearing under his breath and trying to suck in air while waving at his tongue with his hand.

“You’re so stupid,” Mason says, and he starts laughing suddenly, Liam following shortly as the tension in the room finally breaks up.

“Okay, let’s play some video games and forget this conversation ever happened. Next time I’m at Scott’s… I’ll check things out. And be careful.”

“Alright, agreed,” Mason says, grabbing a plate to put his own piping hot pizza rolls on. “And, tell me what happens?”

“Yeah. I know. I don't like keeping things from you, bro.”

“Then don’t.”

Liam smiles slightly and knocks against Mason's shoulder, feeling a little better. And maybe he’s in a drug-dealing werewolf pack now. He can deal with that. He’s pretty. He’d probably do well in prison. He scrubs his hand over his face and sighs heavily, following Mason up the stairs to his bedroom and trying to forget everything as he lets Mason kick his ass three times in a row before switching to Mario Kart.

***

Okay, so Scott’s actually shady as fuck. Liam’s decided to try and hang out with him a little more, partly because it just feels nice when he’s close—must be a pack thing—but also he wants to know about the money. And the drugs.

He’s heard Scott talk enough about his mom working double shifts and making mention of trying to cut back, and he feels so confused as he sits in the back seat of Stiles’ Jeep. Like Scott and Stiles are Mom and Dad talking about bills, and he’s the little kid who’s just there for the ride and the ice cream. Cause they’re totally going to get ice cream after school.

“Where’s your bike?” Liam asks, cutting into their conversation, belatedly realizing he should have at least waited ‘til they were at the end of a sentence.

Scott draws his eyebrows together a little, but answers, “It’s at the shop. I had to have some work done.”

“Oh,” Liam says, and he’s quiet again as Stiles picks back up where they left off, ignoring him. Liam’s kind of used to it, really. Being ignored. He lets his mind swirl, his imagination beginning to run wild. Is that where Scott got the money for his bike, then? And what seventeen year old has enough money for a tattoo? And Scott hardly ever seems to be working at the vet’s office...

“So then I pulled out my bat, and I told him where he could shove it,” Stiles says with a mean laugh, and Liam perks up and sits up a little straighter, curious as to what Scott’s got to say about that.

“Hell yeah. Told you they just need someone to teach them a lesson. That’s what you get for creeping on our territory.”

“Anyways, yeah. So I told him to back off or you’d have a chat with him, and that got him scrambling real fast.”

“Good,” Scott says with a nod, popping open his car door as they pull up in front of the frozen yogurt place. Not ice cream. Those jerks. “You coming, Liam?”

Liam realizes he’s frozen in place and moves to undo his seatbelt, hopping up and following the two like an obedient puppy. They eat frozen yogurt topped with berries like Scott didn’t basically just approve of Stiles threatening someone—who, god who?—in Scott’s name. And maybe beating him up or something. 

Oh god, he’s in over his head.

***

“So then they talked for a while about Stiles’ batting ‘technique’ but I’m pretty sure it was a veiled metaphor for, you know, kicking the crap out of someone,” Liam hisses into the phone, hunched over even though he’s home alone.

“Do you even know what a metaphor is?” Mason says, his voice just shy of teasing, and Liam rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You know I did better than you on that English vocab test. You’re not listening to what I’m saying.” He throws himself on his bed melodramatically, and then, remembering Mason can’t see him, sits back up.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Did they say anything about the money?” The phone crinkles a little and Liam wonders what Mason’s doing on the other side. Probably recopying his notes or something equally nerdy.

“No. Maybe I should sneak into Scott’s house while he’s not home. Try to see if there’s anything else fishy going on?” Liam sits up a little taller, growing excited as his plan starts snowballing wildly in his head.

“That’s a really stupid idea. What if he catches you? I’m going with you.”

“No, Mason! That’s an even stupider idea. I thought you were the smart one of the two of us. We’re going to die like those two stupid teens in the beginning of a horror movie and this is all your fault.” He’s only half-serious about the fear of dying. Mostly.

“I refuse to be the token black person in this story. I will not die. I’ll push you in front of me and then run away.”

Liam barks out a laugh, because Mason totally would. “You’re so nice to me.”

“I put up with you,” Mason volleys back.

“Yeah, you do.” But Liam lets fondness seep into his voice. “Okay, so, I think Scott said he has a date with Kira on Thursday. Meet me at my house at seven and we’ll walk over?”

“Okay. Yeah. Be careful, Liam.” Mason sounds much more somber, and his voice makes Liam sit up and nod.

“I’m just eating Cocoa Pebbles in my pajamas, here. I’m not getting into any drug deals currently. My mom would be so mad I’m eating in bed.”

“I know. But, you know.” Mason’s silent for a minute, they both are, like there are words being left unsaid hanging between them in the air.

“Yeah, I know.” Liam’s silent again for a minute, before adding an “Alright, bye” quickly and hanging up. Liam resists the weird urge to say ‘love you,’ like he does when he’s hanging up with his dad. He shrugs it off and grabs for the box of cereal, pouring himself his third bowl of the evening.

***

“Why are you dressed like that?” Liam whispers as they stand crouched behind the bushes next to the McCall’s garage. 

“Like what?” Mason whispers back.

“Like you’re Dexter from, you know, Dexter. You didn’t need to go all murder suit.”

“It’s a brown shirt and dark jeans. And some boots. And if I was going murder suit, I’d definitely go the Hannibal route.”

Liam gives him an appraising look before realizing that he’s basically given Mason the once over and has not been subtle about it _at all_ ; but fuck it, if he’s about to get arrested in a drug bust from his bad-ass, drug-peddling Alpha, he might as well be honest with himself about how good Mason’s ass looks in those pants.

Mason elbows him in the ribs and they duck down as a car passes down the road, and then Liam darts quickly down the pathway to the front door, Mason following much less stealthily behind him.

Liam jimmies the lock open quickly—“Don’t ask. You don’t wanna know.”—and then they’re in, stalking up the stairs quietly until they’re in Scott’s room and kicking around his dirty underwear and his Chemistry notebooks.

“What are we looking for?” Mason says in a hushed voice, and Liam shakes his head because he doesn’t know. He hunts through Scott’s desk, his eyesight keen in the darkness though he tries to keep their slight glint from Mason.

Mason finds the duffel bag under Scott’s bed, throwing it onto the rumpled sheets and gesturing with his flashlight while Liam trots over quickly, a lump in his throat. He’d half-hoped Mason was wrong, that he was just seeing things. That Stiles wouldn’t come and beat him with his baseball bat as he was obviously so excited to do. And Scott would just all look at him disapprovingly and say, “Liam. We’re brothers now.” And then give him a coded message that would explode when he’d finished reading it.

But nope, there’s cash in the bag. A boatload of cash. Like, more cash than Liam has ever seen in his life before.

“Do you think it’s blood money?” Mason asks, and Liam zips it back up and swallows heavily, leveling Mason with a wide-eyed look.

“I don’t know. What is blood money? Is that when you’ve killed someone? Oh god. What if drug dealing is only the tip of the iceberg? I mean, I know I have anger issues, but I’m not _that_ desperate for help that I’ll do just anything. I’ve never killed anybody before.”

“What’s our plan now?” Mason asks, but Liam isn’t listening to him, and is lost in his own little world of Scott McCall’s Pack for Werewolves Who Wanna Werewolf and Deal Drugs Good Too.

“I don’t want to die young, Mason. Seriously. You’ve got to help me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Mason says, startling backward when Liam grabs at the top of his shirt and looks him straight in the eyes. 

“I’ve never even been kissed. I’m going to die at fifteen years old in my drug-dealing alph.. mentor-friend-person’s home, never been kissed, hauled off to prison. What if the Sheriff comes? What if my dad has to bail me out of jail? What if Stiles is in the same cell as me?”

Liam stops talking and abruptly mashes his lips to Mason’s surprised ones, effectively kissing mostly his teeth before settling into a soft touch of lip to lip while he grasps at the front of Mason’s shirt. Mason is stock still for a moment, but when Liam spreads his hand out warmly and runs it up his neck to pull him in further, he starts to kiss back, letting Liam lick in his mouth just a little. It’s wonderful and glorious, and Liam barely has any time for his mind to stop reeling from the absolutely nice feel of it, all wrapped up in a bit of awe and fear for being in Scott’s room in the dark.

The sound of Scott’s door being slammed open makes them both jump apart and Liam flushes beet red all the way to the roots of his hair as he sees Scott McCall looking at them from the doorway with crossed arms.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?” Scott says, eyes dark. The room’s still pretty black, but Liam can see how angry he is. And for good reason.

“I. Um. We were just.” Liam can’t even think of a coherent excuse, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest because holy crap, he’s just kissed Mason. And also, holy crap, Scott is going to beat the hell out of him for uncovering his scary secret.

Scott looks past them to see the money on the bed and instantly his demeanor changes, tensing up before something like dejection or shame crosses his face. “You saw the money.”

Mason nods and, bless him, tries to step in front of Liam, but Liam puts a hand on his shoulder and shoves him back. This is not his fight, not at all. Liam was so stupid to think it was a good idea to bring him here.

“Look, Scott. Whatever you’re into, it’s fine. Totally fine. You know, I’m not going to tell anyone. About the drugs and stuff. I’m cool. Totally cool. Mason’s cool, too. Aren’t you Mason?”

Mason nods mutely, and this would all be hilarious if Liam wasn’t terrified out of his mind that Scott was going to go all Alpha on him and demand him to launder the money or something. He didn’t even know how to launder money. 

But instead, Scott just looks more confused and says, “Drugs? What are you talking about.”

Liam still has his hand curled in Mason’s shirt, his fingers aching from being clenched so tightly. “Isn’t that where you got the money? For like, your bike and stuff. And the pack dinners. All that lasagna. I know your mom is…” Liam trails off, furiously embarrassed at Scott’s face that’s now turned white as a sheet. And then Scott laughs, good-natured and easy, and Liam laughs along with him, knowing he sounds a little manic. Maybe this is what he has to do now. Humor the psychopath. He shakes Mason by his shirt and he laughs a little too before stepping on Liam’s toes.

“It’s actually… my friend’s money. Derek's uncle’s. Peter’s. It’s Peter’s money.”

“And you were just keeping it for him?” Mason butts in, and Liam bites his lip because this is the moment where they could be dying.

“No. I found it and didn’t give it back right away because we’re having money issues. As you know.” He looks pointedly at Liam and Liam swallows because, yes. Yes, he knows this. “I’m giving it all back. And it’s not drug money, you idiot. Do you really think I’m the type of person who’d be selling drugs? Don’t I have a few other things going on in my life?”

“But you and Stiles were talking about threatening that guy for creeping up on your ‘territory.’ And Stiles is always stroking his bat like it’s his lover and talking about bashing that one guy’s head in.”

Scott looks at Liam like he’s grown an extra head before he laughs again and then flicks on the lights. Liam and Mason freeze like they’re two deer in the headlights, and Liam realizes he’s still holding on to Mason so he drops his hand like he’s holding a hot potato.

“Stiles _is_ in love with his bat. The guy who’s head he’s dreaming about bashing in is Derek. Whom he says he hates but everyone except Derek knows he loves. And we chased off that other wolf pack last week. You _were there_ , Liam.”

“Wolf pack?” Mason says, looking utterly flabbergasted after Scott’s speech.

“Oh, didn’t you…” Scott crosses his arms again and looks between the two of them, realization dawning. “Okay, Liam. You talk to him now.” He points at Mason who looks offended and freaked out at the same time. “I’m going to go downstairs and eat my Taco Bell. You two be gone by the time I’m finished, or I’m calling Stiles who will not be as nice.”

Liam nods dumbly, and Mason opens his mouth as if to speak but then seems to think better of it. Scott rolls his eyes, muttering something about _sensitive hearing_ and _more training_ and _the bite is a gift, my ass._

When Scott’s safely down the stairs, Mason turns and jabs Liam in the chest. “Okay, one. Are you just going to do whatever he says? And two. What the hell is he talking about with wolf packs and territories and stuff?”

“Well I—”

“And three,” Mason cuts him off. “Did you just kiss me cause you thought you were about to die? That’s low, man. Low.”

“No!” Liam says for what feels like the millionth time. “Okay, I have some things to tell you.” He flops down on Scott’s bed and pushes away the duffel bag full of money. And that’s totally weird but, whatever, the money’s not really what he’s worried about now. “Remember when I tried to tell you about Scott’s gang or whatever? And I used the word pack?”

Mason pulls his eyebrows together but nods, sitting down on the other side of the bed.

“Well, it is a pack, actually. Like a real pack. A wolf pack. A werewolf pack.”

“Scott has a werewolf pack,” Mason says. And then he laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m in it. I’m in his werewolf pack.”

“So Scott takes humans in his pack?”

Liam waits to answer for what seems like an eternity, before finally getting out, “No?”

Mason just stares at him for a full minute before apparently cracking under the pressure and starting to laugh again. “You’re not a werewolf. You’re my best friend. I’d _know_ something like that.”

But even as he’s silent, Liam can see Mason thinking about it. Liam’s been gone a lot lately. And moodier than normal, but less so when Scott’s around.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Liam says, and Mason presses his lips together, making them a long thin line.

“That’s not the kind of thing you just tell someone.” His eyes are softer and it seems a little tense between them for a minute before Mason’s laughing again and punching Liam on the shoulder. “You let me think Scott was a drug dealer, you idiot!”

“He could have been!” Liam yells, and then he shuts up when he hears Scott loudly scrape his chair against the kitchen floor in warning. “Well, how else do you explain the money?”

“Okay, yeah, that was shady. But. Telling me that you are in a werewolf pack might have colored my thoughts on this particular issue.”

Liam looks embarrassed, his shoulders hunched over as he can’t quite look Mason in the eyes. “Sorry again.”

“It’s fine. I love you, man. But, you know. Tell me things?”

Liam nods, feeling stupid yet again.

“And don’t kiss me again just for fun. Because that’s not cool.”

Looking up, Liam tries to gauge Mason’s tone but it’s hard to do in his emotionally vulnerable state. “Oh, you don’t want me to kiss you? Because…”

“I didn’t even think you…” Mason trails off, and Liam swallows again and gives him a half-smile.

“I do.” And it feels good to get the words out. To finally say it. Liam feels light, so light, like things are just falling into place and he can breathe a little easier.

“But you never said,” Mason says, still unbelieving apparently.

“Look, staring death in the eyes crystalized a few things for me okay. But, what, you’re going to make me say it. I totally like you, Mason. _Like_ like you. I think you’re hot. Can I stop now?”

Mason is blushing all over and he leans closer, lips inches away from Liam’s until they’re just brushing.

“Yeah, you can stop now,” he says, and up close he looks so _gorgeous_ , and his eyelashes are so pretty and his lips are so soft, and crap crap crap, Liam’s getting all choked up. He presses for another kiss, this one a little deeper, his hand getting tangled up in Mason’s shirt.

There’s another loud scrape from the kitchen, and then Scott’s yelling, “Stop doing that on my bed!”

Liam shoots up, dragging Mason by the hand, and they scamper through the door and down the steps, trying not to laugh too much.

“Sorry,” Liam shouts as he brushes past Scott in the foyer, praying that he’ll just write off this whole mess as some crazy, taco-induced dream. When they’re out in the dark, back by the bushes, Liam kisses Mason again, still clutching his hand tightly.

When they part Liam licks his lips, his skin feeling like it’s buzzing, a laugh bubbling up from his gut. He feels freer than he has in a while, unable to stop smiling.

“No more secrets?” Mason says seriously as he pulls away, but still holding onto Liam’s hand. He’s smiling, though, voice warm, making Liam’s palm grow sweaty.

Liam sombers, letting his hand slip with the sweat, wiping it off nervously on his pants. “So you’re okay with the werewolf thing?”

Liam bites his lip as he waits for Mason’s response, unsure of himself again. 

“I will be?” Mason says, looking earnest. “Maybe you could show me?”

Liam’s smile is brilliant. “Yeah, sure. But not here next to Scott’s trash can. Scott’s already going to kick my ass. Come on!” He jerks his head and Mason pushes up from where he’s leaning against the wall to follow him.

“Is this going to be like that scene from Twilight? Am I Bella in this scenario?” Mason calls as he jogs after Liam. 

“I don’t sparkle.”

“Are you sure? Because you seem pretty gay to me.”

“Shut up,” Liam says as he turns to punch Mason on the shoulder and ends up grabbing his shirt in his fist instead. He pulls Mason back into a kiss right in the middle of the road, and Mason shuts up after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! I'm there as [badwolfbadwolf](http://badwolfbadwolf.tumblr.com)!


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